It's Not Nothing
by lovingcaptainswan
Summary: Snow and Bigby have a conversation outside of his office after Snow becomes suspicious upon catching him in the midst of yet another talk with Nerissa. Set during TWAU, slightly canon divergent from Episode 4. Hints at Snowby. Jealous!Snow. Oneshot.


**A/n: This is my first go at TWAU fic, I usually write for OUAT, so I hope it wasn't terrible! Please drop me a review and let me know what you think and I'll try to write more for Bigby/Snowby and maybe even Georgie in the future. This fandom definitely needs more fic. Thanks for reading and enjoy! **

Snow's head feels like it's spinning.

It's not surprising. She hasn't slept properly in at least two days. She can't remember exactly, too many random, twenty minute naps to keep her going clouding her memory of the last time she'd had an actual _good _night of sleep.

_Maybe I just need to get laid_, she thinks on occasion, quickly followed by a wealth of trust issues and a healthy serving of guilt for even thinking something selfish like that with everything going on in Fabletown stops it dead in its tracks and it's back to work for Snow White.

It's always _back to work_ for Snow White.

Even before all this serial killer horror in their broken but at least safe city (or so she thought), she'd been having trouble sleeping. Crane worked her like a dog - treating her like his maid _and_ his errand girl as well as his secretary, three for the price of one - and worrying about the town in his less than capable hands hadn't helped her ability to relax the past couple of weeks.

_Ugh. Crane._

Just the thought of the perverted creep sends an uncomfortable shiver down her spine and has images that she desperately needs to get _out_ of her head playing in remastered fucking Technicolor.

She gulps half of her cup of too sweet, lukewarm coffee in one go, hoping it will ease the rumbling in her stomach.

(Leftover Chinese for breakfast this morning just isn't cutting it. She should probably stop taking notes from Bigby fucking Wolf in the 'healthy living' category. Next thing she knows, she'll be living on Huff n' Puffs and whiskey. Fortunately, she's not _quite_ that far gone yet.)

The coffee manages to help just enough to keep her focused. Food doesn't matter now anyway. Two women are _dead_ and the town is falling apart, and it's up to her to pick up the pieces now.

Snow sets the cup back onto the desk and stands abruptly, smoothing her hands over her skirt and blouse - trying _not _to remember how Lily had been glamoured to wear nearly the exact thing she's running her hands over now when she'd been brutally murdered - and then one over her hair as she makes her way towards Bigby's office.

She'll get something to eat when she has a minute. _Preferably_ when they get somewhere with this case, which is exactly what she needs to talk to Bigby about right now.

It seems like every lead they have only _leads_ to Bigby nearly getting killed (or completely disregarding her authority as deputy mayor) and yet another dead end and she's not sure how much more of a toll her nerves can take before she loses it. She can already feel the relentless tension balling at the base of her neck and spreading through her shoulders. Combined with the caffeine and nagging hunger, it's making her even more jumpy and irritable every new hour she has to worry about what he'll do next or who is going to get killed if she doesn't do something to _fix_ this town.

(God, she spends half her time _worrying_ about him and the other half _pissed off _at him. Something else she doesn't have the energy to over analyze.)

"Let's just hope Bigby has some good news," she mumbles to herself, walking down the hallway, each clack of her heels purposeful and resolute.

She _will _solve this. And she will _not_ let any more women, men, or even Bigby Wolf die in the process.

She can't.

The door to his office opens with a creak (and she absentmindedly files that away as yet another thing that needs fixed in this building) before she reaches it. She's about to comment on it to him, something about compiling a list for when all of this is over, when she hears a familiar, feminine voice that stops her before she can utter a word.

"Hey… do you think maybe we can do this somewhere else next time?"

Bigby's form comes into view in the window, shutter pulled down so he's nothing more than an imposing shadow next to one of a woman she's coming to recognize as Nerissa – The Little Mermaid, she thinks she used to be back in the Homeland. She works at the Pudding n' Pie, Snow knows that much. She's been helping Bigby with the case, or at least, that's what _he_ says… but he never seems to want to tell her any of the supposed leads the woman has pointed him towards.

Typical Bigby.

Snow finds herself unconsciously hugging the wall, feeling as if she's interrupting a private conversation. The woman always seems to get jumpy whenever she sees her, as if she expects Snow to get her into trouble somehow, though she's not sure why. This woman is almost as much a victim as the others. She could very well be one next if they don't do something to stop this.

"If you really think that's necessary," he replies to her amiably. "Why?"

"I…" the woman hesitates, shifting uncomfortably and glancing down. "I already told you, Bigby, with all that's going on, I could get into a lot trouble if anyone knew I was here. It's easier if we… _book appointments_," she emphasizes slowly. "You know, like last time."

"Yeah. At the Open Arms. You don't exactly forget something like that."

A pang of annoyance strikes her suddenly, if only at the familiarity between them. Snow tries to pick out any particular emotion in the statement, but he's speaking in a calm, professional tone that makes it frustratingly difficult. She knew he had been at The Open Arms, that's how he had found out about Crane's involvement in the case, but she hadn't questioned why exactly he'd been there until now.

It was just another lead… at least, that's what she had assumed.

"Or your place," she offers, rubbing at her shoulder awkwardly. "It's just… _safer_ that way for me. You understand."

"If you're more comfortable," he concedes, crossing his arms. "But listen, Nerissa. You're safe here. I can protect you. It's kinda one of the perks of being the sheriff. Trust me."

This time, there _is_ something in his tone that bothers Snow. Warmth. Friendliness. A protectiveness that she both loves and hates when he uses it against her. It shouldn't irritate her so much that he's using a certain tone she associates as hers with someone else, but it does.

_God, Snow, you need a vacation._

Nerissa laughs nervously and shakes her head. "No offense, but I think you know that's not always enough."

A new clack of heels sounds in the silence as she steps aside from the door, followed at heel by Bigby, as she glances back at him with a forced smile.

"Until next time?"

"Of course," he nods, his hand (instinctively?) on the small of her back, leading her out. "And uh- thanks."

Snow feels a strange tug in her chest and a nagging sick feeling in the pit of her stomach that she blames on lack of food. It's stupid. He can be friendly with other women. It doesn't mean… hell, they aren't even anything. They've been working closely but- _No, it's nothing._ She forces the thoughts out of her head before they form a complete sentence.

Bigby is the sheriff. As poor as he may be with people skills, he's not always entirely gruff and terrifying. He tries. He does. She's seen it. (_With her_, she thinks somewhere in the back of her mind.) He's working on this case just as much as she is, and he's not going to get anywhere with frightened, young prostitutes by going all "Big Bad Wolf" on them like he might with Georgie or The Tweedles. Nerissa takes a gentler hand, and hasn't that been what she's been telling him all along?

He knows what he's doing.

He's working.

_That's all… isn't it? _

They both see Snow at what she can only assume is the exact, same time, starting. Nerissa's eyes widen as she pulls away from Bigby's touch, like a child caught with her hand in the cookie jar and afraid of being punished.

_Or maybe not_.

Snow's brow furrows and that nagging pull in her gut only gets worse.

"Snow," he greets, his features relaxing into a small smile.

"I really have to go," Nerissa repeats hurriedly, cradling her purse to her chest and walking briskly past them both without looking back.

"Hmm." Snow swallows, watching the few seconds until the woman disappears around a corner. "She always seems to rush away like that, doesn't she?"

Bigby shrugs, reaching in his pocket and she sees the familiar, red bordered box of Huff n' Puffs that she's come to associate with him. Placing it between his lips, he cups his hand around it, lighter ready in the other hand as he flicks it to life, flame licking at the cigarette as he breathes in deep until a slow trail of smoke slips out from the corner of his mouth.

"She doesn't feel comfortable here. For good reason," Bigby replies finally, cigarette bouncing between his lips, smoke curling out in wispy tendrils.

He takes another long drag, and she considers scolding him for smoking in the building outside of his personal office, if only out of habit, but what the hell? It's not like he's going to stop. Bigby is good at what he does, but he's made it clear that he does it his way. As much as she intends to work on that, it's not a battle she's ready to have with him right now, and she's not exactly averse to him doing anything harmless that she knows would piss off Crane.

Another pesky shudder runs down her spine at the thought. God, she hates that creep of a man!

Snow forces herself to nod, looking away from those big, brown eyes of his. "Did she tell you anything important?"

Another casual shrug. Another drag of his cigarette.

"Her lips are sealed."

"Alright then," she says slowly, considering what she is about to say carefully. "Bigby, I understand that she was close with the other girls… but should we really be wasting our time with her if she's not going to tell us anything new that will help us find the killer?"

Bigby glances at her, something unreadable but bordering on annoyance flickering in his eyes.

"I told you last time, Snow. We communicate just fine. It's nothing." He takes the cigarette out of his mouth, holding it between two fingers at his side. "I've got it covered, alright?"

"Yeah? Because right now, it seems like she's just wasting our time or sending you on vague, wild goose chases that almost get you killed. If she's even here about the murders at all…"

Snow plants a hand on her hip, pursing her lips.

He's not telling her something about this woman and she's not sure why, but she's getting really tired of being given the runaround when all she's trying to do is help. She's the deputy mayor now, for God's sakes, whether he likes it or not, and his blatant disrespect is getting to her more than she wants to let on.

First the tree and now this? They don't have time for mistakes or petty arguments.

In the past few days there have been two murders, she's found out that Crane has been acting out perverse fantasies about her with prostitutes, responsibility of the town has been placed in her hands, Crane has been kidnapped, and she can't even keep track of how many times Bigby has been nearly killed trying to find who is responsible.

If she's honest with herself, she's scared.

Yeah, she can at least admit it to herself. She may have been practically doing this job for Crane for months, but now she really _is_ doing the job, title and all, and this is all on her. Not just the sheriff that most of the town already hates anyway. _Her._ Snow White. People are _dying_ and so help her, if he keeps up this "stay out of my way and let the wolf work" macho bull crap because he's scared of her getting into the same trouble he's been getting himself into, it isn't going to go over well.

"I'm handling it, Snow. I can't tell you everything right now, but I've got it."

"Is that so?"

_Come on, Snow, you can think of a better comeback than that._ But she can't. She really can't at the moment. She just wants some damn sleep and a meal that hasn't been reheated two or three times already and _maybe _she'll be back to normal enough to think of something.

Maybe if Bigby would actually _trust her_ for once, let her in, if he would respect her decisions as deputy mayor, then they might get somewhere, but he's just so damned stubborn! She has to admit that he does get things done, but _this time_ it's only going to get him killed. Bloody Mary? The Crooked Man? They're in over their heads this time and he can't just keep running into dangerous situations half-cocked, or openly rebelling against her decisions like this!

Bigby sighs, leaning against the wall, softening both his tone and expression.

"Is there something you want to say to me or are we gonna keep talking in circles, Snow?" There is a short pause, and damn it, he's looking at those with those big, sad, wolf eyes again. "Come on, Snow. It's me."

Yeah, actually there is, and maybe the lack of dinner (and lunch), three cups of coffee in the past three hours, and the exhaustion is getting to her, but she actually lets herself say it.

"Maybe."

"Then what, Snow?" He sighs again irritably, ashing his cigarette onto the ground. "I'm working on this case just as hard as you are. In case you haven't noticed, I've almost _died _more than once in the past two days."

"And you don't think I haven't noticed that?" she snaps, unable to stop the words from spilling from her thoughts to her lips. "Christ, Bigby! I had to watch Dr. Swineheart operate on your chest!"

"I know. I was there."

He smirks and the nonchalance almost makes her want to slap him. How can he care this little about his own life?

"Hurt like a bitch. But clearly, I'm still here."

"No! I don't think you _do _know. I have to listen to him warn me, time after time, that if you aren't more careful, we're not going to have a sheriff anymore. You're constantly going behind my back or against my wishes in this investigation-" She catches herself ranting, shaking her head at the blank look on his face, deciding on a new tactic. "So please, Bigby, just _please_, level with me this time. What's going on with Nerissa? Did she tell you anything that we can work with?"

His jaw sets into a line, his expression faltering as he mulls over her words. "I'm handling it."

And that's the final damn straw.

"Alright, cut the BS. Is this _really_ about work, Bigby?"

His lips quirk into something like amusement, brows lifting. "Excuse me?"

"Listen, Bigby, I don't care what goes on in your personal life, but when you start pretending it's part of the investigation is when I get mad."

"What are you saying, Snow? I told you, I've got it handled."

"Booking appointments with prostitutes? How she's always rushing out of your office at the sight of me like I'm some kind of monster?"

Bigby scowls, looking away with a soft growl, dropping the cigarette and crushing it under the toe of his boot.

"Listen, if you want to accuse me of something, just go ahead and say it. Otherwise, I have work to do."

Snow is at a loss for words. She had really, truly thought for the past few days that they were a team. That he would let her in. Sure, they had some occasional hiccups, but when it counted, they looked out for each other, but if he wants to shut her out, fine. They'll just have to deal with this when the case is over, because she doesn't have the time or the emotional capacity to fight with the fucking Big Bad Wolf about work or who he may or may not be sleeping with right now.

"You know what? Forget it. Do whatever you want, it's what you always do anyway."

His face falls into something apologetic and she almost feels bad for accusing him of… she doesn't even know what all she had been accusing him of.

"Snow…"

"No. It's fine, Bigby. I'm going to get something to eat. Call me if anything comes up, alright? Or I'll call you in an hour and we'll go from there."

"Snow, come on… about Nerissa-"

"No, Bigby. Just… follow whatever leads she gave you, if she _did_ give you anything to follow. I need a few minutes."

He swallows hard, rebuked, and nods, mumbling a 'sure', and already reaching for another cigarette.

She waits another long, awkward moment, both of them looking at each other, wanting to say so much more, but both of them too stubborn to bother. Finally, the moment passes and she nods again, a stiff, quick movement and turns on her heel.

"Snow?"

She stops, waiting, without looking back at him. She's not sure she can handle it at the moment.

"We'll catch the killer, alright?"

Her shoulders sag and she takes a deep breath. "I sure hope so, Bigby."


End file.
